


Due Diligence

by abnormallyvissy



Category: One Piece
Genre: Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:55:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22515829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abnormallyvissy/pseuds/abnormallyvissy
Summary: Arsteel van Renesse, a lieutenant of the marines - a global military power dedicated to fighting against piracy in all its forms - finds himself on Silverglade Island with his division. The division commander has disappeared along with his aide, and what begins as a reluctant call of duty soon morphs into a situation that could threaten the entire island's safety.
Kudos: 1





	Due Diligence

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not a good writer by any metric, and my executive dysfunction means I've got trouble planning any sort of long-term series. So I might or might not get to this later. Either way, I hope this is long enough to act as a sort of introductory chapter.

Memory shards just across bright and pure, beckoned. Shattered. Fingers of the sun, sunbeams stabbing through the holes in the soft fabric of curtains, warm. Slowly, Arsteel opened his eyes, and realized that he was awake.

Dark thoughts had plagued him for much of the journey. Today, he was surprised to find them gone. Rising up from his bed, he wandered over to a bucket of water and washed his face clean yawning with aplomb. A good night of sleep for once, too. He ran a hand over the surface of his small desk, grabbing his vision device - it now had a small crack running across its surface. It was getting old.

By the time he made it out on the deck, it was late in the morning already. He’d chosen to dress casual, almost as a statement. Today, he wouldn’t give a damn no matter what happened. Today was a day where things like “responsibility” and “care” didn’t exist. In short, it was a time to get wasted and figure out where he could win the most money.

Of course, reality wouldn’t let him have his way for long. He’d managed to take about three steps outside his cabin when he ran into Zeen, dressed in that same pressed dark uniform as always, holding a half-open notebook in her hand. Her voice was almost amused.

“Is that how you’re going to walk into the commander’s office?”

Arsteel stopped. He yawned, making sure to put some extra effort in the gesture. “Whyever would I be going to some nobody commander’s office, my dear assistant?”

“Because that’s protocol. Surely you know that it’s disrespectful if you don’t go yourself?”  
Well then. Clearly she’d paid more attention to the marine code than he had. It was kind of amazing how quickly she’d caught up to him, actually. Made him wonder if she hadn’t studied the letter of the law before she’d joined the marines, when she was still a mercenary in the underworld. Surely not. What a ridiculous idea.

”Come now, I’m sure the man in charge won’t mind too much if I just send one of the grunts there.”

”Woman, actually. And from what I heard earlier today, they’re somewhat strung up after news broke of those fake marines that we encountered. Security is tighter than usual. We shouldn’t muck about with this. Especially not now that our compatriots decided to wander off on their own.”

“Our compatriots?”

Her tone was unbearably cheery. “The captain took his aide and went into Silverglade a few hours ago. Didn’t give a reason.”

Arsteel sighed. Apparently this was to be his lot in life. Professional protocol janitor. “Oh, fine. But as a reward for your diligence, you’re coming with.”

”Wha—but--!”

”No buts. Besides, you’ll get experience on the job. See first-hand how the big boys handle business. It’ll be useful.”  
If her expression was any indication, she didn’t buy it but didn’t really care either way. Well, good for her. It wasn’t like Arsteel believed it was going to be anything but dreadfully dull, so it was good she wasn’t falling for it hook line and sinker. That perceptiveness was a good quality in a marine.

Besides, it served her right for being too damn cheery in the morning. Maybe seeing how boring all of the pomp and paperwork was with her own eyes would provoke some healthy growth.

It was time to go. Arsteel took a deep breath and checked that all of his equipment was where it should be - swords on his waist, clothes properly arranged, vest not too tight. When all was well, he started towards the exit ramp and –

\-- almost walked right into someone.

As it happened, this was Indigo Larsson, the ship’s _other_ lieutenant and Arsteel’s college-in-crime. Arsteel yelped in surprise. ”Oh, where’d you come from! Don’t just appear in front of people like that, someone might die!” 

He took a second to compose himself. That was when he realized that he could share his misery with someone else. Had he been worse at dissembling than he was, a devilish grin would have spread across his face. As it was he kept his face even.

”Oh, actually, Indigo, we’ve got some official business to attend to in the city. Would you like to join us? Your presence would be appreciated.” Worded like that, it was of course almost impossible to refuse without being rude. Which was the entire point. Today, he decided, nobody would go to bed without knowing of true suffering: the proper following of protocol.

A cool breeze picked up as the trio made their way down to the docks, carrying dust and a faint scent of metal from the silver mines nearby. Arsteel decided to untie his coat from his waist and put it over his shoulders - it wasn’t particularly hot outside, despite the sunlight. And besides, what Zeen had said about tightened security made him want to stand out as a marine. He knew it was just paranoia, of course.

”You didn’t see him earlier, the captain, did you?” he said as they walked, trying to keep his mind occupied. It didn’t matter too much, though he had to admit he’d been peeved to discover their erstwhile commander had decided to take today off. The clever bastard had known in advance, hadn’t he. “Not that I mind, of course…” There wasn’t much to do around these parts, not according the very little he knew about this island anyway. Not many reasons to just waltz off on your own. Then again, he couldn’t exactly blame him on crashing straight into the nearest pub as soon as he got off the ship.

Indigo sighed, his answer curt. “Nope.”

“Not in the mood for chit-chat, detective?” Zeen chirped.

“Nope.”

“As usual.”

“And you don’t need to pretend indifference, Arsteel. Your expression is about as sour as month-old milk.”

Arsteel started. “It was?”

“Yes. But more importantly, I think we’re almost there.”

The marine base was not so much of a base as it was an outpost, though it was a very visible one at that at the very least. It had probably once been painted white, but silver dust had long since covered most of it and, over time, blackened until it rather resembled charred metal, with occasional streaks of grey and white mixed in. When the trio approached the base, they soon discovered that they’d arrived right in the middle of what looked like a crime scene. Smoke rose from a crater off to the side and several of the more curious townsfolk including reporters had gathered to see what was going on, but the few marines present didn’t allow them closer than a couple of meters.

Arsteel contemplated whether satisfying his curiosity was worth the risk of getting drawn into something pointlessly complicated, but quickly decided to do so anyway against his better judgment. It beat paperwork. “Come, let’s see what this is about,” he called, pretending not to be bored out of his skull, and motioned for the rest to follow him.

”Ho there, soldier. What happened here?” Arsteel called out to the nearest marine, who turned towards him with a frustrated expression as if he was about to say something he’d already said dozens of times. “Now, listen…”

The expression lasted as long as he could process the sight of Arsteel, Indigo and Zeen, and more specifically the knots on their shoulders indicating their rank.

”... sir. I’m sorry. My petty officer woke me up at 4am to deal with the press. You can’t imagine how awful—oh, right. Sorry. It’s been a long morning. Let’s take that again.” He composed himself. “You must be the marine division that just arrived.”

Arsteel nodded. “Quite so. Lieutenant Arsteel van Renesse. With me are Lieutenant Indigo Larsson and Ensign Zina Wrought,” he said, indicating each person in turn. “We only just arrived here. We were intending to report ourselves in, but then we saw this.” He pointed towards the crater, and desiring a closer look, asked: “May we?”

The marine nodded slowly. “Yes, sir. Please take care not to touch anything. This... only just happened. We’re still investigating.” He paused, then added: “I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw it, honestly. I hope you can make some sense of it.”

Then he turned towards the townspeople. “Alright, time to clear out! Chop chop! We have this under control, we don’t need any more help. You’ve taken enough photos.”

Arsteel moved closer to the crater, walking right up to its edge, and...

... and was that... no, surely it couldn’t be. He rubbed his face, thinking that maybe he was seeing things.  
The crater was shaped like a... giant paw print of some kind. And right in the middle of it, a man dressed in what looked like a torn uniform, unconscious and looking like a drawn carriage had run him over. Zeen crouched over the crater’s edge, a thoughtful expression settling on her gaunt features.

”I cannot tell whether he lives. I should--”

The large double doors leading into the marine outpost crashed open, cutting Zeen short, and out stepped who must have been the island’s commander-in-chief herself. She was tall, clad in a pressed suit and coat with the kanji of Captain clearly visible on the white fabric, and her silvery chin-length hair had been immaculately cut. She looked to be somewhere in her mid-thirties. Someone who looked very much like your typical resident coroner – plain clothes, haunted features – followed her out and quickly waddled over to begin seeing to the man.

”I guess you lot are the newcomers I heard about.” she said matter-of-factly as she stepped up to join the trio at the crater.

”Uh... yes... so you already heard, then. Captain.” 

“Lieutenant Arsteel van Renesse reporting in.”

She acknowledged him with a nod and a smirk and began to inspect the crater. “My name is Vedra. Or you can just call me ‘Captain’, if you prefer it that way.”

The doctor’s nasally voice began to drift out from the crater as he began his inspection. “Alive and breathing, but bruised everywhere. Looks like a lot of defense wounds... and a broken arm... and...”  
”Hmm.” He turned up to look at the Captain. “If you would, Captain.” When Arsteel moved to follow, the doctor nailed him with a glare that told him this was not for his eyes. Arsteel glanced at Indigo and Zeen with half a grin, as if saying ‘well at least I tried’.

From what they could see, as Vedra crouched over the doctor was pointing at something. Maybe someone with superhuman hearing could’ve heard what they mumbled to each other, but unfortunately Arsteel’s was only human. It didn’t sound like they knew what was going on either, though.

When their conversation finished, Vedra nodded once to the doctor and then suddenly began to move. Arsteel took a step back out of reflex as she casually vanished and then immediately reappeared beside him, the rush of air accompanying the quick movement, and began to walk back towards the outpost.  
That... that was normal? He had never seen anything like that in his entire life! Some of the other marines were snickering at them, apparently used to that kind of display but finding his surprise amusing.

”Have the prisoner relocated to the medical ward, doctor!” she called over her shoulder, and then added: “And you three, follow me.”

They followed. She’d made it abundantly clear who was in charge around here.

“’The prisoner’?” Indigo asked.

Vedra sighed quietly in response to Indigo's question. "He doesn't seem like a threat for now, but what with the news we've had recently... there's too much uncertainty. Whatever happened to him, it's definitely not normal."

As they followed her into the imposing facility, Arsteel found his gaze wandering from wall to wall, taking in the austere hallways and noting that they too had the same silvery quality to them. Well, the island was called Silverglade. It only seemed fitting.

“The one responsible for interior design here seemed to have a bit of a one-note mindset,” he quipped quietly to Indigo. He smiled by way of reply.

They turned a corner, passing a room full of what looked like marines half-buried in paperwork, and finally arrived at a reasonably spacious semi-circle of a room which seemed to be the Captain's office. Stacks of wanted posters and miscellaneous documents had set up shop on the table and the walls of the room were all but covered in maps, more wanted posters - some of them crossed out with red marker - and news articles from the World Economic Journal. Arsteel was quietly intimidated by the place and its workaholic nature, finding such things decidedly not his style, but Zeen on the other hand seemed impressed more than anything. Arsteel noted the expression, beginning to think that maybe making her come along hadn't been the best idea.

“So!” Vedra began, turning to face them from across her desk. "No need for the formalities, friends. I assume you're the newcomers I was told about. You're a... medical squadron, correct? Directly attached to headquarters?"

Arsteel blinked, not having expected anyone to already know something about them. But he supposed that records of their division existed, and at least basic information would be available if you inquired.

“That is correct,” he replied evenly. “Though we are not under orders currently.”

She chuckled, somewhat harshly. “Not surprising. A whole medical squadron - maybe they'll call you up to the War at some point. But unless there's some natural disaster that requires extra attention, you might have to wait a while on the orders front.”

Well, that at least sounded promising. Arsteel relaxed a little. Maybe they'd actually be able to lay low for a while... then again, the mention of the War didn't exactly please him. That was the Paramount War, of course, infamous not only for Whitebeard’s involvement but for the amount of marine lives it had already claimed. Word was, a whole fleet had gone missing.

Vedra yawned and sat down onto a high-backed chair. There were other similar ones around the room. “Either way, please do sit down. There's coffee in the thermos if you like. There's no special paperwork I need from you right now, but it's been a while since someone updated me on the latest gossip out there.”

She looked at them over the rim of a coffee cup that had almost materialized into her hand. "Besides, I'm curious to hear your opinion on that desolate rock from whence you came."

So she knew. It seemed that she knew a fair bit about the seas around these parts. Arsteel sat down, pouring himself, Indigo and Zeen a cup each to buy time, but beginning to feel worried on the inside.

As Zeen sipped from her cup, Indigo took the opportunity to speak up, laying out each word with care.

“We received a distress signal and assisted a pair of captives to escape from their rogue pursuers. They are as safe as they can be now.”

Arsteel nodded, keen to quickly change the subject. What they’d encountered on that island was hardly something he wanted getting out.

Vedra didn’t give him a chance to talk, though. “See, when we first spotted your sails in the horizon, I was able to guesstimate your point of origin fairly easily," she replied by way of explanation. She sighed, as if remembering something. "That island was the subject of a natural disaster some years ago. We took all of the survivors we found with us - they still live here, as far as I know."

“So I was surprised, that's all.” She gave the two of them a wary look, and chuckled. "But I will not inquire further, unless you wish to tell me. Operational security and all that."

“We thank you for your discretion in this matter, Captain.” Zeen chimed in, quick on the uptake. Vedra seemed to take it as confirmation and nodded again, smiling faintly. "I thought so. So the headquarters did have a mission for you after all."

Arsteel blinked, only now catching up to what had just happened. Zeen directed a faint grin in his direction. Maybe it was better this way - let the Captain think she'd managed to figure something out, and she'd be satisfied. Now that he realized it, he decided to play along. His tone of voice changed, becoming subtly deeper, almost like a stage actor taking on a new role.

“Well guessed, Captain. What we told you is true, however - we are currently under no orders. You could say that this island is a rest stop for us. If you happen to need any assistance, we are of course happy to render it.” he said, of course not expecting her to take him up on it.

“Hmm... I may need to take you up on that.”

Arsteel was glad that his face was obscured by the coffee cup he was holding. He emptied the mug, put it down and managed to smile in a way that did not seem choked.

“Oh?”

“Yes... I've always wanted to see how people such as yourself conduct yourself in the interrogation room, actually. This will be interesting for us both.”

Just what kind of people did she think they were?!

“The interrogation room?” he managed.

Vedra smiled, a ball pen materializing between her twirling fingers. She leaned towards them. “Remember our new friend at the bottom of that crater? He'll regain consciousness any moment now, I'd bet. Don't tell me you're not even a little curious.”


End file.
